The Friday Random Ten+5 makes its 28 days count.

I've had a surprising number of people tell me recently that February is the month they hate the most -- surprising, I guess, because it seems wasteful to spend that much angst on the month that occupies the fewest days out of the year. On the other hand, though, I guess I can see where they're coming from: It's always cold; the weather sucks; it's got Valentine's Day plopped right in the middle of it, which, even for people in relationships, is one of the more insufferable holidays; and hanging over our heads is the constant reminder that the Powers That Be picked the shortest month of the year for Black History Month, which is just some incredibly racist shit.

But if you keep an open mind, you can find some stuff to like about February other than the fact that it'll be over with quicker than any of the other months. You actually don't have to look too hard, either; I didn't, and I still managed to come up with this week's +5, Five Things To Look Forward To In February. You can start off by congratulating yourself that you made it through January, which really sucked. But anyway:



The Super Bowl (this Sunday)
It's always bittersweet when actual football finally comes to an end. And as a fan myself, I find it especially cruel that the Super Bowl comes so soon on the heels of National Signing Day, a reminder of the kind of stupid bullshit that we're all supposed to go bananas over if we're going to make it through the offseason. But if the season's gotta end, it might as well do so with a bang. And this year's Big One promises to be one of the better games we've had in quite a while; hopefully the ads will be, too, because they've kind of stunk the past few years. But either way, it's still a chance for nuts like myself to get together with fellow fans, raise our glasses to the greatest sport in human history, and place a prop bet on something incredibly stupid like whether the national anthem will last longer than two minutes.



The 2012 Winter Olympics (February 12-28)
I can sort of sympathize with Kyle King here: The Winter Olympics isn't football. But if you're willing to look past that, it's a lot of other things that are good in their own way -- bobsledding, hockey, people sledding downhill face-first at 80 miles an hour, American athletes flexing nuts at a whole host of different sports, and people from all over the world coming together for purposes other than blowing each other up, which is an unfortunately rare thing these days. And even if there's absolutely nothing else on the schedule that interests you -- not even a bunch of people saying "aboot" -- you can always tune in on the evening of Sunday the 21st to stare at Tanith Belbin (above), medal-winning ice dancer and absolute hottest skater ever. I'm just planting seeds here.



Carnaval (February 13-16)
As for the 2016 Olympics, if you're still fuming over Chicago getting snubbed in favor of Rio de Janeiro, consider: Here's what's going on in Chicago right now, while in Rio they're downing caipirinhas and watching women parade down the streets in costumes like the one above. Nothing against Mardi Gras, but Carnaval is maybe the biggest and best party anywhere on the globe -- it's like Mardi Gras, but on steroids, and instead of girls flashing their boobs for beads, the dancers and "samba queens" start out with barely a stitch on, as a matter of course. Eliminating the middleman, like, which is the kind of efficiency we could all learn a lesson from. One of these days I'm going to save up the money to fly down there, with my biggest worry (besides getting mugged) being that I might not come back. (In the meantime, though, perhaps one of you who isn't at work right now can click here and explain the physics of this to me.)



Presidents' Day (February 15)
Woo, federal holiday! Which means some of you get the day off! For those of you who don't, well, I don't know what to tell you. Being unemployed, pretty much every day is a day off for me.



"Cop Out" (February 26)
Yes, I know: This movie's probably going to be retarded. But it's directed by Kevin Smith, and has Tracy Morgan being, well, Tracy Morgan for a couple hours, so by the end of February I am almost certain I'll be able to turn my brain off for long enough to enjoy it. Besides, this being a notoriously slow time of year for movies, what else are you gonna watch besides this and maybe the Scorsese movie that's coming out? "Valentine's Day"? "The Wolfman"? I think Spencer Hall had the right idea about that last one.

There, see? You now have an itinerary. Don't say I never gave you anything. And now, the Ten:

1. A Tribe Called Quest, "Award Tour"
2. U2, "Gone"
3. Elbow, "Flying Dream"
4. The Chemical Brothers, "The Private Psychedelic Reel"
5. Moby, "Oil 1"
6. The Strokes, "Last Night"
7. The Supremes, "Reflections"
8. Rob Base and DJ E-Z Rock, "It Takes Two"
9. U2, "Sunday Bloody Sunday" (Live from Sarajevo)
10. Pet Shop Boys, "Yesterday, When I Was Mad" (Coconut 1 12" mix)

Your own Random Tens and things you're looking forward to this month -- or, alternatively, reasons you'll be ready to jump out in front of a bus before the 28th rolls around -- are welcome in the comments.

Happy New Year!

And štastný nový rok to those of the Slovak persuasion -- including, but not exclusive to, Bratislava native and SI model Lucia Dvorská -- as our homeland celebrates 19 years of glorious independence today. (Almost old enough to drink, though in eastern Europe we all start drinking at age 4, so I guess that's neither here nor there.)



Whether 2009 was good to you or 12 months of complete crap, here's to 2010 being better in every way.

Merry Christmas.

As difficult as things have been over the past year or so, I've periodically had to remind myself that I actually have it pretty good -- roof over my head, clothes on my back, food in my belly, a loving family who's willing to give me a helping hand when I need it -- and that's especially true around this time of year. Whereas 90 percent of the world would probably be happy with a sanitary place to live or an extra piece of bread in tomorrow's meal, I've got it good enough that I can afford to ask for stuff like Legos and Wii games for Christmas. Unemployment issues and whatever else aside, I must be doing all right.

But the most important thing I'm blessed with is the people in my life, and that includes my those of you who grace me with a little time out of your day to read this blog. Thank you, and Merry Christmas -- or Hanukkah, or Kwaanza, or winter solstice, or whatever you choose to celebrate this time of year; I hope that your holiday is blessed with as much love and companionship as mine has been, and I hope that the new year brings all of us as many additional blessings as we need.

The Friday Random Ten gives its annual salute.

Next week's Friday is Christmas Day, at which point y'all will certainly have more fulfilling things to do than read a blog post (I'm damn sure gonna have better things to do than write one), so the Friday Random Ten will almost certainly be taking a hiatus. So this week seemed like a perfect time for one of Hey Jenny Slater's annual traditions: a tribute to the Sexy Santa costume.

We begin with Lucy Pinder, Rosie Jones, and Chanelle Hayes, ringing in the holiday season the way the British do best.



Here's the beloved Tennessee Titans cheerleading squad, decked out for Christmas (and for an unholy mudhole-stomping of the Rams) last week.



Holly submits this teal-and-rhinestone'd take on the Sexy Santa outfit, as observed on the Jacksonville Jaguars cheerleaders during the Jags-Colts game last night



Followed by Alessandra Ambrosio, also an annual HJS tradition, for obvious reasons.



And Katy Perry, whom Holly is gonna kill me for putting up here:



And . . . whoever these chicks are:





Finally, this might be stretching the definition of a Sexy Santa outfit somewhat, but hey, they're Australian and it's summer down there, so whatever.



Merry Christmas, everyone -- may your days be merry and bright, and may all your Christmases be low-cut and marabou-trimmed.

Here's the Ten:

1. De La Soul, "Say No Go"
2. Beck, "Replica"
3. The Who, "Squeeze Box"
4. Underworld, "Faxed Invitation"
5. R.E.M., "Daysleeper"
6. Beck, "High 5 (Rock the Catskills)"
7. Richard Cheese, "Sunday Bloody Sunday"
8. Peter Gabriel, "Steam"
9. Opus III, "It's a Fine Day"
10. Beck, "Soul of a Man"

It's the holidays, folks, so go nuts -- Random Tens, Christmas wishes, Sexy Santas to whom you might be partial -- in the comments.

Thank you.

While we're all taking this day to ponder all the things we're thankful for, I thought I'd take a moment to do the same here. I know the ratio of maudlin posts to overall posts on this blog has been creeping upward of late, for which I apologize, but I want to thank you all for being regular readers, even through some very difficult times over the past few months in which I didn't do as good a job of keeping this thing updated as I should have.

When misfortunes happen in bunches and depression sets in, the attitude that frequently takes over is, "Why should I bother doing [X], it's not gonna make a lick of difference one way or the other" -- and for me, that's been particularly applicable to my writing, in spite of the fact that it's one of the things I do best and enjoy the most. This blog, the work I've been doing for other people's sites, the book that I've been alternately trying to write and trying to give up on for years now -- with each one of these things, I've had that "Why bother" attitude at one point or another over the past year or so, or multiple points, to be more accurate. But y'all are why bother, and now is as good a time as any to remind myself of that and thank all of you for it. Y'all have taken the time to read this blog, care about what's written here, and on occasion even be entertained by it, and that's kept me from throwing my hands up and saying "screw it" despite many temptations to do so.

So a heartfelt "thank you" to you, the readers, for both your time and attention and for the encouraging words you've commented, e-mailed, and Twittered my way; to Holly, Orson, Matt Hinton, and all the other bloggers who have permitted me to deface their sites with my invective over the past few months; and to my family, who have put up with my constant presence (and the nonstop stream of "Super Mario Bros." theme music that comes with it) and still been able to grit their teeth, smile, and assure me sincerely that better days are ahead. Not a day goes by when I don't thank the Lord for all of you, and it's about time you knew that.

If this isn't the best welcome-home someone can possibly get, it's close.

As the owner of two Boston terriers who have been known to go bug-nuts crazy when I return home from something as mundane as a trip to the grocery store, I can only imagine how happy both of these two are feeling right now.



That's from "The Late Movies: Dogs Welcoming Home Soldiers," currently up on Mentalfloss.com. And from a human being, thanks to all the vets out there. Your sacrifices haven't been forgotten.

The Friday Random Ten+5 dishes out Halloween advice (with sexy results!*).

As of today, Halloween is but two weeks and change away, and this is the time I can never help but reflect on how much my attitude toward Halloween has changed over the years. Once I became a teenager, i.e. old enough that candy was no longer one of my prime motivations for doing anything, I lost nearly all of my interest in the holiday; I was enough of a Good Guy at that point that bag-snatching, house-TPing, and the usual seasonal mischief didn't have all that much appeal for me. I pretty much ignored the holiday completely for a long time, and it wasn't until I'd been out of college for a few years that I finally caught up with the rest of my gender and discovered the real reason Halloween was worth celebrating in spite of the annoying children, rampant vandalism, and potential for dramatically accelerated tooth decay: girls making it a point to go out in public looking as slutty as possible.

Let me tell you, my eyes were opened, and a lot of it probably had to do with living right smack in the middle of one of Birmingham's busier bar districts, where the female patrons don't always bother even paying lip service to the concept of a "costume" as you and I know it. The last few Halloweens in a row, I've been able to sit out on the patio at Dave's Pub down the street from my apartment and practically set my watch by the moment a trio of college-aged girls stumble across 20th Street in their underwear. Not that I don't admire their bravery, but there are ways to wear an actual costume (or at least an approximation of one) while still maintaining the sluttiness that we've come to expect from October 31st. Sometimes these methods are absolutely horrible -- the words "sexy" and "clown" should never so much as appear in the same sentence, and I think it's reasonable to expect anyone who joins them together to register as a sex offender -- but some methods can be suitably trashy while being properly respectful of the true spirit of Halloween and showing some true creativity in the bargain. So on that note, this week's +5 is Five Suggestions For Creatively Slutty Halloween Costumes:



Sarah Palin
Yes, Palin is a willfully incurious individual who would've made an awful vice-president and who would make an even worse president, but like the new Cowboys Stadium and those 100,000-strong, stadium-wide gymnastics demonstrations they put on in North Korea for Kim Jong-Il's birthday, she's not bad to look at, even if she does go against everything I stand for. Extra points here for an accurate "you betcha" or "meeeaverick" in your speech; a particularly short skirt; or if you can borrow your friend's Alaskan husky and walk it around with you wherever you go.



NFL cheerleader
Many NFL cheer squads are known for wearing rather complex, architecturally gifted uniforms; the San Diego Charger Girls, extolled hither and yon on this blog, are a prime example of this. However, an increasing number of teams are experimenting with the deceptively simple combination of jersey (or jersey-like-apparel) and hot pants. This is a trend I have no problem with, and it makes costuming-up a cinch for the ladies. Just grab a jersey out of your boyfriend's closet (or your own closet, if you're super-awesome like that and can bitch about the underperformance of your fantasy team with the best of us), throw on a pair of inappropriately short shorts and a pair of boots, and blammo, you're ready to hit the town and advertise your favorite team in the process. (For a higher degree of difficulty, "USC Song Girl" requires some sewing skills but is no less awesome.)



"Baywatch" lifeguard
Another one that's a lot easier than it might sound. Just find a red one-piece bathing suit that's a size or two too small, combine it with your most negligible acting skills, and you're ready to go. Dicey in cold climates, but hey, those are the sacrifices we have to make. It was chilly in Birmingham last year, too, but that didn't stop girls from lining up outside Club Uranus looking like hookers, and yes, there really was a bar down the street from me called that.



Hooters girl
Yes, this is something I clearly have a weakness for, but when you get right down to it, this is an institution that has to be respected for knowing exactly what they're selling (hint: it isn't the wings) and selling it better and more thoroughly than anyone. You've got options here -- the standard Hooters outfit, the black Hooters outfit, the camo outfit for salute-the-military promos, you name it. Just make sure you get the tank top three or four sizes smaller than you would ever actually wear such a garment. That's an important part of the ensemble.



Victoria's Secret angel
This one might actually be the easiest option of all: Just go through your dresser and pick out your classiest (or, depending on your frame of reference, least embarrassing) pair of undies; head down to the costume shop and buy a pair of angel wings; and ta-daaa, you will not have to pay for your own drinks until November 2.

No, no, I'm just happy to help.

The Ten:

1. Dimitri from Paris, "Un World Mysteriouse"
2. 3rd Bass, "Episode #3"
3. Taucher, "No Need to Ask Baby"
4. Steven Wright, "Home of Rock"
5. R.E.M., "What's the Frequency, Kenneth"
6. Air, "Kelly Watch the Stars"
7. Pet Shop Boys, "Discoteca"
8. Flight of the Conchords, "Ladies of the World"
9. U.N.K.L.E., "I Need Something Stronger"
10. Depeche Mode, "Personal Jesus"

Your turn -- throw your Random Tens in the comments, along with your sartorial recommendations for Halloween. This goes for you women out there, too, if you have any costume suggestions for us guys. No "Incredibly Good-Looking, Funny Guy Whom Men Want To Be And Women Want To Be With" suggestions, though. I've gone as that like the last six or seven years in a row, and I'm looking to branch out a little.

* Apologies for shamelessly stealing both the title of Ian's possibly late, unequivocally great blog and the inspiration for same, but it was too good not to pass up.

America, f%$# yeah.

Why a chick in an American-flag bikini? For the same reason the United States ever does anything: Because we can.

Amongst the many things I'll be declaring independence from today, the biggest is sobriety. Happy 4th, dorks.

A holiday recap of sorts.

Sorry for the radio silence yesterday, but just so everyone's aware, I did celebrate April Fool's in my own douchey way yesterday. Successful pranks included:

· A "Bruce Pearl to Georgia?!?!" post on Twitter, which snaked one or two people;

· The old "I'm getting married" gag on Facebook, which reeled in a whole lot more people than I thought it was going to (hint: If you really want to pull this off, put up a status update and change your relationship status in your profile -- go big or go home); and

· An "I'm flying up to Washington this weekend to interview for a job in the Obama administration," which snagged my dad for 3-5 seconds. (Which is actually pretty good; Dad's lived with me long enough to expect B.S. like this from me.)

Anyway, I don't mean to sound like I'm bragging, but April Fool's Day is kind of like a religious holiday to me. I'm an artist; this is my medium.

But even I have to bow down to whoever pulled off the prank below. Remember the Robert DeNiro "homeland security" sketch on SNL a few years back? Someone actually managed to make that a reality, albeit on a slightly smaller scale, but it still had me giggling like a 7-year-old. (Then again, mentally, I am a 7-year-old.) Either way, enjoy (and thanks to reader Ben for the tip):

Happy New Year/Štastný nový rok to one and all . . .

. . . and merry Constitution Day to the great nation of Slovakia, which celebrates 16 years of swingin' independence today. The nation is thus empowered to drive a car all by itself.

Slovakia's current reigning Most Famous Person, tennis player Daniela Hantuchova, reciprocates thusly: "Děkuji a všetko najlepšie k Bulldog zadok-výprask v Capital One Bowl." Go translate it yourself, I got games to watch and a ton of food to cook.

One more 'cuz it's Christmas.

The spirit of giving is in the air, plus the Hey Jenny Slater Salute to the Sexy Santa Costume will always have room for Stacy Keibler.



All right, so what'd everybody get for Christmas? I picked up a digital camera, a red-and-black argyle sweater that will soon be the envy of Georgia tailgates across the Southeast, and a bunch of DVDs to begin the process of replacing my far-bigger-than-it-ought-to-be cassette collection; I did not, however, get the Lego Taj Mahal. So if any of y'all did, just don't tell me. I'm better off not knowing.

"If in some smothering dreams you too could pace . . . "

It's one of those childhood memories which I don't know when it happened and I'm not 100-percent positive where it happened, but I think I was about eight or nine years old, not that long after we'd moved to Tennessee, and we were making one of our fairly regular weekend trips to Jonesborough, the oldest town in Tennessee and the site of quite a lot of extremely well-preserved history. I think we were walking by some kind of memorial in front of the county courthouse that listed the names of people from Washington County who had died in various wars, and my dad pointed out that the soldiers who had died in World War I were listed under "The Great War." He asked me why I thought it said that instead of World War I, and when I told him I had no idea, he said, "Because they didn't think there could ever be another one. That's why they called it 'the war to end all wars' -- they thought that after that war, there could never be another one that would be that bad."

That memory, as hazy as it is, was the first thing that popped into my head while I was reading this post by Robert Farley and this post by Matthew Yglesias (both linked here) about how November 11 was originally designated Armistice Day but has come to mean something quite different under the "Veterans Day" moniker. According to Wikipedia, the name was changed in the mid-1950s to expand the holiday's remembrance to veterans of all wars, and while I obviously think that honoring our veterans is a right and necessary thing to do, I wonder if something else important wasn't lost in the change -- something that we might do well to reflect on now more than ever.

People in the late teens in 1920s referred to WWI as "the war to end all wars" not only because they thought there could never be another one that big, but also because they thought "The Great War" had been so definitive and cathartic that it reordered the world in such a way that we'd never need to have another war that big again. Well, obviously that wasn't how things played out, and as Yglesias alludes to, the second world war and the Cold War, among many other assorted conflicts and miseries, were more or less a direct result of that supposed new world order that was created in the wake of World War One.

That's about as much evidence as anyone could need that "war for peace" just doesn't work, and yet that's precisely the "argument" (if one can call it that) some people were making in the run-up to the second Iraq war, not to mention the argument that some still make in favor of military action against Iran. This idea that war can be a crucible out of which wonderful new democracies and alliances can be formed, it just doesn't hold any water, and yet some people still cling to the idea that America can reshape the world in our image and make it conform to our ideals if we're just willing to put enough military might behind it.

Look, I'm not saying that no war should ever be fought, or that walking around putting daisies in the barrels of soldiers' M-16s is the way to solve all the world's ills. Some wars need to be fought; the United States has both a need and a right to defend itself. But it's one thing to get involved in a war for the sake of protecting a nation's sovereignty or security; it's another thing entirely to start a war thinking it can change the world for the better. I can't think of a single instance in which that has ever worked. It all goes back to an excellent quote from Sadly, No! four years ago, and that I've invoked several times since then: War never doesn't hurt. You might or might not gain something from fighting in a war, but you are guaranteed to lose something -- and I continue to be confounded by the number of people who still seem so willing to take those odds.

War, by its very definition, doesn't preserve peace; the historical evidence shows us that neither does it leave peace in its wake, at least not a very enduring one. And while there's no sure-fire, airtight method for achieving peace, not starting wars is pretty much the most effective one anyone's ever been able to come up with. If you'll permit me to indulge my '80s-movie geekdom and involve a famous-to-the-point-of-cliché line from "WarGames," "The only winning move is not to play."

And I think that's worth keeping in mind today. While we're honoring the men and women who've had to make huge sacrifices for our country, let's not forget the circumstances and mistakes -- by other countries' governments as well as our own -- that forced them to make those sacrifices to begin with. And let's commit ourselves to not making those same mistakes again.

Repudiating broad brushes.

While my mom and I were sitting in church on Good Friday, she noticed something in her missalette, a note printed at the bottom of the page where the Passion started. I don't know whether this is a new thing for the Catholic church, or whether they've been doing this for a while and we just didn't notice it, but here's what the note said:

The message of this liturgy in proclaiming the passion narratives in full is to enable the assembly to see vividly the love of Christ for each person, despite their sins, a love that even death could not vanquish. The crimes during the Passion of Christ cannot be attributed indiscriminately to all Jews of that time, nor to Jews today. The Jewish people should not be referred to as though rejected or cursed, as if this view followed from Scripture. The Church ever keeps in mind that Jesus, his mother Mary, and the Apostles all were Jewish. As the Church has aways held, Christ freely suffered his passion and death because of the sins of all, that all might be saved.

-- Bishops' Committee for Ecumenical and Interreligious Affairs

That sounds like the kind of thing that might have been laid down in response to the controversy over the film "The Passion of the Christ" and what some interpreted as a tone of anti-Semitism, but whatever the Church's reason for including it, I think it's a good thing -- particularly coming from an institution that was responsible for, you know, that Inquisition thing from a while back.

And if the Catholic Church can issue a decree like this one, maybe it would do all of us some good this Easter season to issue some decrees of our own regarding blanket condemnations of large groups of people for the sins of a few -- f'rinstance, that we won't blame all Muslims for 9/11, and we won't blame all white people for slavery and racial injustice, to name just a couple of examples that have been in the news lately.

Too much to ask? I don't think so.

Happy New Year!

And Štastný nový rok for anyone who might be reading this from the motherland, as Slovakia celebrates 15 years of glorious independence today.

Michaela Kocianova wishes you a very happy 2008; she also says she hopes the Dawgs kick ass in the Sugar Bowl. I'm just inferring here, but I'm pretty sure that's what she meant.

In the spirit of giving . . .

I know I probably gave you the impression that it's all about me this Christmas, but no, it isn't -- it's all about me the other 364 days of the year. On Christmas, it's about Jesus, our Lord and savior come to earth, and it's about all of you. I appreciate the literally tens of readers who come to this blog on the regular basis, and though, like the little drummer boy, I have no gift to give, I do have one thing: Hey Jenny Slater's annual salute to the most underrated costume out there, the sexy Santa costume.

We begin, as has become our custom, with Alessandra Ambrosio.




And continue with America's greatest cheer squad, the Washington Redskins cheerleaders.


As well as this unnamed Tampa Bay Buccaneer.


And what the hell, one more Alessandra for the road.

Veselé vianoce, schmucks! Be good to one another.

Happy New Year!

And Happy Independence Day to Slovakia, celebrating 14 years of glorious, sexy autonomy on this, the anniversary of the "Velvet Divorce" in 1993.


Jozef Murgas, inventor of the wireless telegraph.


Andy Warhol, the son of immigrants from the village of Mikova.


Supermodel Adriana Karembeu.


Eugene Cernan, the last man to set foot on the moon.


Ján Bahýl', inventor of the motor-driven helicopter.


Tom Selleck, hall of fame badass. (Yes, his family ancestry is Slovak.)


Ivan Reitman, director of "Stripes" and the "Ghostbusters" films as well as producer of movies such as "Road Trip" and "Old School."


Hockey legends Stan Mikita and Miroslav Satan.


Tennis player Daniela Hantuchová.

Booty!

No, not that kind of booty -- we covered that in the last post. I'm talking about stuff, loot, swag, presents, the stuff we all say isn't the most important part of Christmas but pretty much is.

I'm just kidding, Jesus. Happy birthday. Please tell Your dad not to smite me.

Anyway, here's some of what I got.


An authentic Red Air Force flask that will be filled with potato vodka at the first opportunity.


A Redskins hat with the gold cursive "R" just like the kind Joe Gibbs wears.


The first season of "Magnum, P.I." on DVD.


And in the least shocking development of all, a new toaster oven. (Thanks, baby sis.)

And then there were the gifts that have become family traditions, like the Gap gift card so that I can do the annual updating of my decrepit wardrobe, and the Playboy in the Christmas stocking. Let me back up on that last one, because there's a story behind it: Supposedly when my dad was 16 he made the mistake of telling his parents he wanted a Playboy for Christmas, and I'm sure they told him they would get him no such thing, but when Christmas Day finally rolled around, there was a Playboy right there in his stocking. And instead of enjoying it like any 16-year-old boy in his situation would, Pops immediately turned beet-red, ran off and hid the magazine under his mattress or something.

So now there's a Playboy in my stocking every December 25th, but the best part every year is hearing the story of how my mom got it. She's only 5'3" or something like that, and of course the lads' magazines are always up in the back of the rack at the bookstore where the children and ne'er-do-wells can't get to them, so most of the time Mom has to ask for help. One year it was from a Ranger who happened to be browsing the magazines at Joe Muggs while she was there; another year it was a couple of college students. According to Mom, this is the conversation that ensued:

Mom: Excuse me, can I get you to grab me one of the Playboys up there in the back?

College student #1: (a bit perplexed at being asked for a Playboy by a middle-aged woman) Uh . . . sure. (gets the magazine) So, like, what are you getting a Playboy for?

Mom: Oh, it's for Christmas, for my son.

College student #1: That . . . is . . . AWESOME!!

College student #2: I wish my mom would get me Playboy.

What's funny is that my dad is probably going to be a lot more embarrassed that I'm divulging all this than my mom is going to be.

But anyway, feel free to leave your own Christmas hauls in the comments thread, because I'm curious to see what everybody got, even if it was just a stocking full of reindeer poop. And I know at least a couple of you out there got that.

Happy berfday, baby sis.

On this day in 1980, my little sister entered this world unaware of the task that awaited her -- trying to make her way in the cold, unforgiving shadow of her older brother, a man other men wanted to be and women wanted to be with, a man who stood astride the worlds of journalism, arts and letters, popular culture, and probably a bunch of other things like a veritable colossus. Not a task you'd wish upon anyone, much less an innocent apple-cheeked young girl, but that was what she was stuck with.

Fast-forward 26 years later, and she is the organized, together, thoughtful, mature, capable-of-maintaining-a-long-term-relationship one in the family, while her older brother is the flaky, scatterbrained slob whose personal best in relationships is three months and who still laughs uproariously at poop jokes. (Heh, I said "poop.") Oh well! Life's crazy like that sometimes.

Anyway, this is my way of saying happy berfday, baby sis, you've done pretty well for yourself in your first 26 years. Now let's see how you handle the next 26. Just so you know, I'll be damned if I'm gonna let you get a book published before I do.

Oh, and I seriously considered posting the picture Mom took of you fast asleep on your training potty when you were two years old, but I didn't. You're welcome.

(Leave your berfday wishes for Ann in the comments below, or at her blog Practically Harmless, or you're dead to me.)